Why do TV characters always push dressers in front of doors they want to block people from opening? It was easy to push the dresser over there. It would be easy to push it out of the way. Then when someone does get through the door, they run away by going up. Up is a dead end. Sometimes TV makes no sense.
Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “dresser.”
First 50 Words - Prompts for Writing Practice 
Time and age have a way of changing things. When I was young, I longed to be the best dresser around. Not the most glamorous, just the best. I wanted to wear the best branded clothes. Today my longings are different. I simply want to be able to dress myself, never mind the make of the clothing. Once a year a woman’s health organization to which I belong sends a survey reminding me this is a worthy goal. One of the annual questions is “Are you able to dress yourself?” Every year as I write “Yes” I do a little Snoopy Happy Dance. One day either myself or a caregiver will provide the opposite response – or none. Best dresser or just dresser?
I like your very thought-provoking story, and using “dresser” in the unconventional sense. I’m recovering from hip surgery and yesterday, for the first time post-surgery, I was able to say, “I got dressed without the nurse’s aide’s help,” which I’d taken for granted before!
The dresser sat by the window where Maryanne had placed it, overlooking the garden she had designed and spent so much time fussing over. I’d kept it for reasons I could not explain, or perhaps I could; it was to be a reminder I would never be able to replace her, now, or ever.
Just like my couch, I also left my all wood oak triple dresser for the happy buyer. Yee Gods when I tried to move that away from the wall only twice a year to catch dust bunnies and get them out it was a pain in the you know what. That triple dresser was mine when I was married to my first husband for twenty-two very long years and it always somehow intruded on my thoughts. It brought back memories I’d rather not think about. So now my M.O. will be to have shelving and rods built all along one wall in the master bedroom that will accommodate folded items as well as hanging items. Then I’ll have bifold doors – hey possibly mirrored to make the room look huge. Lots of plants here and there reflected in the mirrors. Naturally, since I have been purging my clothing closet for several years now I don’t have very much. I finally became brave and got rid of the gorgeous wool blazers I used to wear to my marketing/advertising job. The joke? They were over fifteen years old. They looked as good as new. Now that this aging body with the authentic extra “padding” along the back and shoulders doesn’t truly look great in those blazers I’m happy that I was honest with myself and gave them to a second time around store that donates its funds to an animal shelter. Wow!! I do believe I’m settling in to my age finally and quite content with my new approaches to my home. But I have to confess: it took me too long a time. I wish I had come to these conclusions a long time ago. I feel free as a butterfly.
I looked for my comb everywhere. I was getting late.
“Did you look in the dresser?”
“Of course I did! Why wouldn’t I?”
I had lied. I hadn’t looked into the drawers. How stupid was I? I walked towards my dresser and stumbled upon the huge teddy bear my toddling son had left on the floor. As I hit my knee on the floor, my son clapped, giggling! I looked at him in disbelief, part angry, part flabbergasted. And then I laughed too… seeing the comb stuck in the curls of his hair!
Please visit and follow my blog at (aishwaryasivakumar@wordpress.com)!
The ladies sat in a large circle . They were swapping jokes and hilarity was high. All held glasses in their hands , and talked ill of the weather and the snacks. Never too much of a dresser , Sona always felt left out in such gatherings. People were dressed to the hilt, with multiple layers of make up. They talked of brands of eye-makeup, and Sona felt as if she belonged to a different planet.
She remembered a similar emotion gripping her when her sister took her to a famous jewellery shop in Kolkata. The ground floor was dedicated to gold, the first floor to silver and kundan jewellery, and the second to precious and semiprecious stones . It was like visiting a different world altogether. Gunmen bristled at every landing and at every entrance . It looked like a fortress, as well-dressed women , reeking of expensive perfume , tried out jewellery , with varying degrees of desire glinting in their eyes . There were cameras that whirred , clicked and swivelled . The billing clerk sat behind a bullet proof glass enclosure . All walked with their noses high up in the air , like princesses. Sona saw more crocodile leather bags , gucci shoes and faux fur , than she had ever seen in her entire life .